I couldn't stop crying. The deadliest man in Gotham had been reduced to a sniffling weak excuse for a gangster. Without a doubt, my weakest moment in life came with the first breath of my newborn son. If anything demanded my attention that day...well we'd just all be screwed. I couldn't see beyond the son I had longed so long for. Nothing existed beyond him. Jackson.
I can't seem to let him part from my arms for long at a time. He had become like a drug I was highly addicted to. I needed him like I've never needed anything or anyone. I've never felt a stronger need to shield or protect another living being this much. I've been willing to die for mobsters and for lovers, but for Jackson, I'd storm the gates of heaven and hell. For him I am without limits. For him I will make the impossible possible.
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I found every last trait of my son's to be sheer perfection. He was going to grow up and break a thousand hearts. He had unique eyes, speckled in multiple shades of blue and green. He was pale, but not as pale as myself. Not as pale as Lucy. But there was no denying that the chemicals are fused into his DNA. Their concentration is simply cut in half. I honestly don't know what that means for my son when it comes to the rewarding side of the chemicals. But we'll figure it out.
I look down at him in my arms, his little face illuminated by the hospitals parking lot lighting. I wished I could show him off. I wish I could introduce Jackson to Bruce and Jester and even the people on my shit list, like Harley, Ivy, and my baby brother. I was just so excited. A proud new father. I've waited so fucking long for this. And just when I had given up, there he was.
I look over at Alexis sleeping peacefully. She certainly does deserve her rest, but I'm not complaining because I don't want to share Jackson. I wanted all of his attention. Maybe that feeling will subside. But if it doesn't, I'm okay with that.
Just then a nurse walks in and a smile crosses over her face as she sees me holding Jackson. "Mne prosto nuzhno vzyat' nemnogo krovi. Doktor skazal, chto s poslednim obraztsom chto-to ne tak." She tells me that the doctor wants her to get another blood sample from Jackson. He thought there was something wrong with the test. But I already know that's not the case. It was the chemicals.
I really didn't need some doctor snooping on my son's blood and thinking that something was wrong with him. I didn't need to hear things like inconclusive, anomaly, abnormal, or more testing. Nor did I wish to explain it to anyone. I was trying to hide out here in Russian, not draw attention to myself or the fact I have a newborn son. I shake my head no, "YA otkazyvayus' ot obraztsa krovi."
She looks confused when I tell her no, "Eto prosto rutina. Voobshche ne o chem bespokoit'sya." She assures me it's basic procedure.
I cut my eyes over at her, "Ya skazal net," I growl lowly. The nurse quickly ducks her tail and rushes out of the room without her fucking blood sample.
But my den of zen is soon infiltrated again. The nurse returns, this time with the doctor. "g-n Neypir," he starts speaking.
But I calmly cut him off by holding up my hand, "I'm going to need a translator, I don't speak Russian," I say. They know that's a fucking lie, I've spoke Russian to this doctor for months. But because I've asked, they'll find a translator. Meaning they'll leave the room.
